


can't be bad to feel so good

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Class Differences, Fine Dining, Food Issues, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Rough Sex, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Freddie's going stir-crazy cooped up in his motel room while they're hiding out from Ruby's crazy ex-husband. Ephram decides to hell with it -- they're going out.(Freddie & Ephram are also involved with a human woman named Ruby; Freddie is additionally involved with a fairy named Elizabeth. Ruby = Kate Beckinsale FC, Lizzie = Keira Knightly FC)
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	can't be bad to feel so good

**Author's Note:**

> > Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

“Freddie.” Ephram tossed a balled-up takeout menu at the fairy, who had been innocently minding his own business sitting at the rinky-dink desk in their hotel room. It wasn’t exactly the most considerate behaviour, since Ephram knew that Freddie – accustomed to finer things than this – was gamely suffering through their current confinement and trying to keep his griping to a minimum. But Ephram had a very contrary streak that came out at inopportune times, and to tell the truth even he was getting stir-crazy cooped whenever he wasn’t doing policework.

“Yes, love,” Freddie had sighed, flicking the balled up takeout menu into the little wastebasket at his feet; he’d been lost in his own boredom and general unhappiness at their surroundings when Ephram had first tried to get his attention, but now looked over as his witch turned off the television, “-what can I do for you, darling?”

“Freddie,” Ephram said louder and more insistently, turning off the TV. He’d spent the last hour and a half flipping through all the stations, barely alighting on any for more than ten minutes at a time, and now he was sick of it. “Freddie, dress me up and take me out to lunch somewheres. Feed me fancy things.”  
  
The fairy immediately lit up, a radiant smile on his face. He stood and crossed over to the bed, climbing up into Ephram’s space and kissing him, before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet, still grinning. “Stand right there,” he said, eyes sparkling, “-and let me Fairy Godmother you a little, eh, sweetheart?”  
  
Freddie rifled through Ephram’s clothes, coming up with a passable pair of trousers and a shirt - his own would never fit, they were wildly different sizes; and it was easier to hold a visual glamour long-term, than a one with a number of dimensions, even now that his power was back in full force - and then headed for the closet where his own things were hanging, retrieving a tie, a watch, and a set of cufflinks. All of which he held back until Ephram was dressed.  
  
Kissing his witch one more time, murmuring, “You’re bloody gorgeous, do you know that?” Freddie glamoured Ephram’s usual casual attire into something a little smarter - shoes and all - and then passed over the handful of accessories, urging him to go take a look in the mirror.  
  
“I can change anything you don’t like, love,” he said, “Just tell me what you think.”  
  
Ephram was a very placid subject when it came to anybody dressing him up; there was a caretaking to it that he enjoyed immensely, and would consent to wearing nearly anything. So he knew Freddie’s choices would be perfectly fine, and he stood there quietly humming Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Boo while his fairy selected clothes for him.  
  
Pulling them on, Ephram asked, “D’you buy all your clothes in person? Or like online shopping? I reckon you’re the sort to get yourself all measured and tailored and the like. Socks that cost fifty bucks.” His tone was amused, but not mocking; Ephram’s level of poverty had been to the point where extravagance in clothing was still something he couldn’t quite grasp. It all seemed unreal to him, so he didn’t feel any need to protest. And considering the obvious importance of the proper dress to Freddie, the witch decided that it would please his lover to have the opportunity to bring Ephram up to snuff, regardless of cost. Freddie deserved to have the chance to do this kind of thing with somebody he loved, and Ephram felt he deserved the same thing too. Besides which, seeing Freddie light up like that made his heart ache in a way that felt so good he wanted to keep causing it again and again.  
  
Ephram leaned warmly into Freddie’s kiss, smiling in affection when Freddie complimented him and sneaking one more kiss to that luscious mouth before regarding the accessories. “Can I have a tie with more patterns?” he asked. “All the rest of it is great.” Moving over to the mirror, Ephram started to carefully affix the pieces to his outfit, making a noise of pleased surprised when he saw how much more spruced up his image appeared. “I’ll fit right in. You’re a genius, being able to polish up a scruffy ol’ backwoods boy like me.”  
  
“If I can, I always prefer to buy my clothes in person,” Freddie said, watching appreciatively as Ephram got dressed, “-for exactly the reasons you mentioned, darling - I like to have things bespoke, if it’s possible. And even if you’re buying off the rack, it’s always better to see how something fits before you commit to it.” He smirked, “Especially since ordering things is a bit of a crap-shoot with no real fixed address. One little delivery snafu and I’m long gone before my package arrives.”  
  
“Which isn’t such a tragedy, really,” he went on, “I mean, I can always get another whatever-it-is, after all - but the traditionalist in me doesn’t much care for a paper trail. Of any kind; whatever name I happen to be using. I always prefer to deal in cash.”  
  
“Oh yeah, that’s pretty true.” Ephram hadn’t considered Freddie’s nomadic-by-necessity life before, kept finding it hard to remember that his alighting in places had always been transitory. “So what’s the longest you ever stayed in any one place, honey? It sounds exciting, moving all round like that, although I reckon I’d get homesick at some point..” Not that Freddie had any fixed home so far as Ephram knew, which probably made things a lot different.

“Once I left England?” Freddie asked, “About two years, give or take. But even then, I was still travelling. My average, depending on the job, is about four to six months. Oftentimes less, sometimes a little more - it’s very much dependent on what I’m trying to accomplish in any given place.” He smiled at Ephram, though there was something of a shadow behind it. “But you have to have a home in order to be sick for it, sweetheart. I’ve never suffered from that particular affliction.”

Freddie smiled at Ephram, running his fingers through his soft mane of blond hair. “Is fifty dollars a lot for socks though? I mean…what would you normally spend?”  
  
Smiling a little wider when Ephram stole another kiss, Freddie traded out the Armani tie in his hand for a silk Burberry that’s pattern reminded the fairy vaguely of a shirt he’d seen Ephram wear, and settled back to watch as his witch slipped it around his neck, before he was unable to resist the urge to close the distance between them and tie it himself into a full Windsor.  
  
Ephram hummed in catlike pleasure when Freddie came and fussed with his hair, pushing gently against his hand. “It seems like a lot to me,” Ephram said. “I normally get a pack of ten for ten bucks. Or whatever’s on sale for less.” He considered. “Sometimes I get a pair of nice ones, those’re a lil more expensive. Three bucks?” He grinned, turning his head to bite gently at Freddie’s fingertips. “Ruby kicks up a fuss ‘bout you buying her expensive things, don’t she? Probably don’t wanna make you feel like she’s in it for the swag. Not me, though. I’m shallow.” Ephram laughed, taking the new tie and looping it around his neck.  
  
It took only a count of six seconds before Freddie was there fussing with the tie and setting it in a perfect knot, and although Ephram had been tying ties since he was a kid and his minister papaw let him, he didn’t protest. The feel of Freddie’s clever fingers against his throat was too intimate, too sensual to pass up. “How does Elizabeth take it when you wanna buy her things?” Ephram asked. He had the vague feeling that maybe he should disclaimer the question, allow for Freddie to only answer if he was comfortable with it, but he genuinely was curious.

Tucking some of Ephram’s hair behind his ears, and smoothing the rest back off his forehead, Freddie tried not to make a horrified face at the idea of a bag full of socks going for a dollar a pair, before finally giving up and laughing. “Well, in that case,” he said, “-I’m afraid I’m going to go massively over budget on socks - and probably a number of other things. You’ll just have to be disappointed in me, darling.” He made a low approving growl in the back of his throat when Ephram bit at his fingertips, and nodded, grinning again. “Ruby absolutely hates it. She disapproves when I try to pay for coffee, let alone anything else. I keep trying to tell her that the money means nothing - less than nothing, really; there’s always more to be had, and I’ve got a fortune stashed away in various places - but she’s having none of it.”  
  
“You’ll have to work on her for me,” the fairy smiled, biting Ephram’s earlobe, “Convince her that it’s not so bad being spoiled…As for you - you look absolutely wonderful,” Freddie murmured as he tied, leaning up to brush their lips together again, “-you’ll fit in anywhere I could possibly think to take you.”  
  
Sliding the Windsor knot into place at Ephram’s throat, Freddie answered his question about Elizabeth easily, not seeing any need to demur where her privacy was concerned. “Lizzie’s tricky,” he said, “Some things don’t seem to bother her - food and that sort of thing - and other things - impractical things, I suppose - she rolls her eyes at, and pats me on the head like I’m daft for even considering the need for it at all.”  
  
He smiled teasingly. “You’re the only one who lets me do what I like, love. But just so we’re clear, love, I’m just as happy with you in your usual clothes, yeah? I don’t want you to change a thing. Ever.”  
  
He tugged on the freshly knotted tie, and shot Ephram a cheeky grin. “I just want to be able to spit-shine you every now and again.”  
  
Ephram beamed when Freddie praised him, throwing his shoulders back and standing at his full height, smoothing down the tie. “I do look mighty sharp, honey, thanks to your fairy godmothering,” Ephram said, admiring himself in the mirror. He looked back when Freddie spoke again, tugging his tie, and smiled fondly at the fairy. “Oh, I know, you don’t gotta worry bout me gettin’ self conscious of what I wear.” He kissed Freddie’s cheek, declaring, “And you can shine me up any ol time you want, Freddie. I love it.”  
  
Accepting the kiss on his cheek, happy that he’d made Ephram happy, Freddie took his hand and led him to the door, tossing a quick goodbye to Ollie, who was lounging on the bed bitter over his lost HBO, and filling his hand full of fairy dust. “Just a quick glamour to get us out the door,” he said, sprinkling it over Ephram’s head and adjusting his features in order to render him unrecognizable, before doing the same to himself. “We’ll call a taxi on the way out. I’ve already decided where I want to take you.”  
  
“It’s called Hugo’s - do you know it? In Grieselle? It’s not far from our old hotel.”  
  
Ephram’s heart _thurruped_ in excitement as they left the room, waving goodbye to Ollie. “I think I heard of it,” he said, although he wasn’t entirely sure. “But I wouldn’t know nothin’ bout what kind of food they serve.” He hopped on his toes slightly in anticipation as they reached the lobby for Freddie to make taxi arrangements. Once he’d finished, Ephram snuggled up to Freddie, saying for his ears only, “…for the record, sweetheart, I’ll always let you do what you like.”  
  
Down in the lobby as they waited for their taxi, Freddie couldn’t help but grin at Ephram’s obvious excitement, curling an arm around him and pulling him closer, murmuring, “Is that a fact?” at the assurance of always being indulged. “Because you know the sort of impulse control I have, and now that I’ve been promised…” His hand wandered down Ephram’s side, and the fairy turned his head taking another quick kiss, about to lean in for something more substantial when they were interrupted by the arrival of their car.  
  
Giving Ephram a little swat on the ass to herd him into the cab, Freddie opened the backseat door for him and followed him inside, giving the driver the name of their destination and settling in - close enough to his witch make sure the cabbie’s eyes stayed on the road where they belonged.  
  
“I never welsh on a promise, Freddie,” Ephram confirmed as they got into the cab, reveling in how Freddie, dapper to the nines, was squiring him around. He laughed, curling against Freddie and wrapping his arms around the fairy’s thick shoulders, taking in a deep satisfied sniff of his man. “I was thinking,” Ephram ventured, “you could pick out a cologne for me too. Not that I don’t like Old Spice but. I reckon it’s high time I turned a corner on it. And I dunno where to start.”

The fairy lit up again when Ephram mentioned that he’d like some new cologne, lifting a hand to finger Ephram’s tie and then sliding it up the side of his neck, playing with the soft tendrils of blond hair dusting his shirt collar. “Are you serious, love?” he asked happily, “Because it’s very cruel to tease me if you aren’t. Honestly, I’d like nothing better than to take you wherever passes for upscale around here and outfit you head-to-toe - but especially for something like that. I mean, the right cologne is all about body chemistry, sweetheart; and that’s something you and I have excelled in right from the beginning."

“Freddie,” Ephram said, “It is not in my nature to tease about somethin’ so holy as the way a man smells. Especially when mine smells like sheer fuckin’ heaven.” He nodded at Freddie’s statement about chemistry, and added, “That’s part of the reason I wanna change. Reason one is that I got money now to keep buyin’ whatever you choose, and reason two is I want my cologne to work with yours.” Ephram gnawed gently at the fabric at the peak of Freddie’s shoulder. “And I don’t reckon drugstore after shave is a good match with eau de Freddie.”

The fairy turned his head to nuzzle at Ephram's blond hair, making a pleased sound. "Now, technically,” Freddie said, going back to their earlier conversation about the food, “-I think they’re calling the menu ‘American’ for want of a more specific term, but really, the best descriptor I can give you, darling, is fancy. As per request.”  
  
“So just order anything you like, and if you hate it, order something else.” Freddie smiled at him. “We’ve got all the money and time in the world, love. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”  
  
The fairy smirked, leaning in to let his lips brush against the shell of Ephram’s ear, “And after we eat, we’ll just see where the afternoon takes us, yeah?”  
  
Ephram made a shocked sound when Freddie suggested that he order something new if he didn’t like the fancy food, then laughed sheepishly at himself. “I got a lot of old habits to break with you,” he admitted, nosing against Freddie’s cheekbone, as affectionate and clingy as a happy hound dog. “But I am gonna enjoy myself, sugarplum, no fear on that. We can feast all afternoon.”  
  
Freddie made a contented, approving noise as Ephram nuzzled against his cheek. “Good. Because I don’t plan on taking you back to that room until I absolutely have to.”  
  
The taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant, and Freddie paid the driver - tipping generously - holding the door for Ephram as his witch climbed out of the backseat, and then leading him up the steps with a hand on the small of Ephram’s back. He opened this door too, and they stepped inside, waiting at the podium to be seated.  
  
Hugo’s had a dark, rich feel to it - everything done in wood, leather, and iron; one wall made of exposed brick to capitalize on the antiquity of the building the restaurant called home - and Freddie had grown quite fond of the place since arriving in Soapberry; coming for lunch, or dinner, at least twice a week while he’d been staying alone at the Danforth. The menu changed daily - reflective of what could be farmed, fished and foraged locally - and it had yet to disappoint Freddie’s palate.  
  
He very much hoped that Ephram would enjoy it.  
  
When the hostess came around the corner from the kitchen, she recognized Freddie immediately, smiling broadly, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Hello, Elise love,” he said, “It’s rather been a while, hasn’t it?”  
  
“Would you mind seating us at that table I like? The one in the back? This is my darling’s first time here, and I’d like for him to get the full benefit of the ambiance.”  
  
Elise nodded her acquiescence with a lovely smile, just like he’d known that she would, giving his arm a squeeze, and led them back to Freddie’s table of choice - a spacious booth in the back corner - leaving them on their own with their menus, and promising that their server would be with them shortly.  
  
Freddie waited for Ephram to sit, before sliding in beside him, settling a hand high on his witch’s thigh as he murmured, “Remember, love, get whatever you like,” and then he grinned. “And if you hate it, I promise I’ll eat something fried in ketchup soon to make it up to you.”  
  
His eyes sparkled. “Or do anything else you see fit.”  
  
The ride wasn’t all that long – just enough for Ephram to manage kissing Freddie a whole lot – and when they got out of the car and Freddie put one strong hand on Ephram’s back, shepherding with such confidence and poise, Ephram just about suggested they return to the car and fuck their brains out.  
  
But he reined it in, desire for this new experience to share with his fairy outweighing (for the moment) the desire to take him to bed. The restaurant itself wasn’t what Ephram expected; he’d imagined it would be sleek and bright and modern minimalist. But instead it was less intimidating, more inviting and low-key for all its fanciness. A bit like Freddie himself, Ephram thought, smiling with quiet pride as he watched the fairy seamlessly navigate the required niceties. He turned utterly pink with pleasure when Freddie introduced him as my darling and it took all Ephram’s willpower not to climb into Freddie’s lap once they sat down.  
  
“This is so unreal,” Ephram said, picking up the menu. He resolved before looking at the offered items that he wouldn’t take the prices into account, but even still, he couldn’t help his eyes widening. “You eat like this all the time?” Ephram gasped, looking at Freddie. “Jesus. I need a drink. Get us some while I choose out my food, huh, sweetheart?” The more Ephram thought on it, though, Freddie coming here and ordering from the fresh sheet, drinking elegant manly highballs, admired by all who saw him, the more he liked the image.  
  
Freddie watched Ephram’s reactions with delight, already making lists in his head of other places he wanted to take him, other things he wanted to show him; knowing that he would never, ever, get tired of making that wonderful little awestruck look appear in Ephram’s eyes - and barely able to resist the urge to kiss him senseless.  
  
Though, he thought…he might just do it yet. The illusion of privacy was always worth whatever it happened to cost; and places that catered to money, nearly always catered to money. It was a constant in a chaotic world, and Freddie appreciated that.  
  
The fairy lost himself for another moment or two, gazing adoringly at Ephram while his witch perused the menu, and then laughed softly at himself when he realized that he’d drifted. He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Ephram’s mouth, murmuring, “Of course, love,” and then motioned subtly for their server to approach.  
  
The waiter wasted no time - working hard for his tip already - and Freddie spoke to him softly, sending him on his way with a nod and a smile; pleased when he returned only a few moments later with a pair of wide-mouthed glasses, each a quarter full of amber liquid. Freddie thanked him, letting him fade seamlessly away until they required him again, then set Ephram’s glass in front of him.  
  
“Now don’t laugh,” he smiled, “-but what with you being from Kentucky and all, I’ve been trying to develop a taste for bourbon. And from what I understand, this is the best there is - despite it’s rather ridiculous name.” His eyes sparkled, “You’ll have to be the judge though, darling. I’m still only learning.”  
  
“No.” Ephram practically dropped the menu, looking at Freddie as if he was the last biscuit at a church repast. “Fuckin’ hellfire, Freddie, don’t tell me you managed to get hold of some Pappy’s!” Ephram reached for his glass and lifted it to his nose, taking a good long whiff of the alcohol. “I had a cousin once,” he said, “got divorced and let the wife have everything – the house, the trucks, the dogs – so long as he got to hang on to the bottle of Pappy her folks gave ‘em for a wedding present.” Ephram put the rim of the glass to his lips, then stopped. He sat quietly for a moment, then put the glass down and turned to Freddie. Taking the fairy’s face in his hands, Ephram kissed him, eyes closed, thumbs stroking the soft skin in front of Freddie’s ears. Slow and tender and yearning.  
  
“I love you,” Ephram said, once they parted. “It’s hard to believe, Freddie, that you ain’t been with nobody before, because once you set yourself to love somebody, honey? It’s … like being loved by … by God, or nature, or the universe. Just like that. No matter where I am or what I’m doing I can feel that you love me and it’s a blessing, is what it is. You’re a blessing.” He kissed Freddie again, and then turned back to the table, eyes shining as he picked up the glass. “I’m almost not wanting to drink it,” Ephram said, but then he did just that, taking a few sips and then leaning back in his seat to enjoy the burnished, smooth taste of oak-aged liquor.  
  
Turning his head against the back of the seat to look at Freddie, Ephram smiled a little sadly and said, “I know I can sound ridiculous sometimes, going on like I’m some back hills preacher when you know about a million times more bout the world than I do. it’s just that you’re special, Freddie, and I aim to let you know it every chance I get.”   
  
Freddie grinned, his eyes sparkling, at Ephram’s reaction to the bourbon. “Apparently, they stock it here as a matter of course,” he explained, “But the cost of a pour means it doesn’t exactly fly out of the bar. Is that a true story though? About your cousin? Or is that just a little Southern charm at work?” The fairy slid a little closer to Ephram, murmuring, “I do love to hear you tell a story…”  
  
And when Ephram took his face and kissed him - slow, and sweet, and deep - Freddie closed his eyes, and moaned softly into it; wanting to be kissed like that for the rest of his life.  
  
But what followed was even better, and when Ephram had finished speaking, finally taking a sip of his drink, Freddie had to swallow hard before he could trust his voice to respond. “I love you too, Ephram,” he said, his voice low and a little rough. “More than I can properly tell you. And that - everything you’ve just said - that’s…”  
  
He shook his head gently. “…nobody’s ever told me those kinds of things before. And until I met you, I didn’t think they ever would. I didn’t think it was possible.”  
  
His own smile held an echo of ennui that matched Ephram’s as reached up to touch his witch’s cheek. “But you never sound ridiculous to me, love. You know more about things that matter than I’ll ever be able to learn; and I’m just grateful that, for whatever reason, you think I’m worth your time.”  
  
“That _my love_ is something you want…”  
  
Freddie leaned in again and pressed his lips to Ephram’s one more time, licking the taste of the bourbon out of his mouth. Ephram trailed the backs of his fingers along Freddie’s elbow, down to his wrist, before sitting up straight again. “I want the snails,” he said, rather unromantically. “Out of all the things I ever ate, possum and squirrel and hog from the rooter to the tooter, snails ain’t been on that list.”

Once they’d separated, and Ephram had announced his rather colorful intentions to order escargot, Freddie let out a fond little chuckle, beaming in his direction. “You’ll need more than that though, darling,” he said. “If you’re hungry, escargot on its own simply isn’t up to the job.”  
  
Ephram gave Freddie a grateful smile when the fairy said that he didn’t sound ridiculous, that he wasn’t stupid. These were things that Ephram had spent a long time convincing himself of, and on top of everything else, it was unsettling how little it took – one vampire accountant here, one standoffish fairy there – to collapse the self-esteem he’d worked so hard on. But it was very, very difficult to believe such wretched things about himself when Ephram had Freddie telling him otherwise, witty and urbane Freddie whose kindness would never extend to lying about something like that. “Your love’s everything I want,” Ephram said simply, and kissed him again. Sometimes it seemed like they never stopped kissing, but that was a pleasure that Ephram was sure neither of them cared to pass up.  
  
“Okay, escargot to start,” he said, returning to the matter at hand so they wouldn’t keep the waitstaff hovering. “Then, uh … oh, hey, I always wanted to try this. Although I don’t reckon I know how to say it.” With a huffing laugh, Ephram held up the menu, pointing at the paella. “Ain’t never had mussels before. And look, they got oysters!” His finger migrated back to the starters section of the menu and he added, “I dunno what these are, though,” as he read over the list of various mignoinettes to accompany the shellfish. “You can choose that one.”  
  
Pleased, Ephram shut the menu and leaned back, picking up his bourbon glass again. “And that story bout my cousin and his Pappy’s was absolutely a hunnerd percent true facts,” he said, shifting his leg under the table so he could loop his ankle under Freddie’s. “We’s all moonshiners from way back when, darlin’. The Pettalines are a clan that takes their liquor serious as the Good Book.” Jostling his ankle so it lifted Freddie’s a few times, Ephram asked, “In all the heists you pulled off, you must’a had a lot of this grade of booze, huh? Drinking it out of Faberge eggs.” He scrunched his nose with a grin. Freddie’s wild escapades made a terrific starting point for wild speculations, which Ephram enjoyed indulging himself in – especially because Freddie had a marvelous, warm and buttery sense of humour and never seemed to mind the teasing.  
  
Freddie accepted Ephram’s kiss, and Ephram’s words, happily and gratefully - never able to get enough of either - and watched in contentment when Ephram returned to his menu, ticking through the things that he wanted, nothing but happiness left on his face. “Perfect,” Freddie said with a grin, glancing quickly down at his own menu, and mentally adding to the list before beckoning their eager waiter back again. He ordered everything Ephram had mentioned, tossing in his own additions of Coquille St. Jacques and duck confit, and then requested the rest of the bottle of bourbon before the man hurried off to the kitchen.  
  
“We’ve ordered too many different things for there to be any hope of choosing a complementary wine,” he explained with a chuckle, “-so I thought the rest of the Pappy seemed like the best option.” The fairy settled himself closer to his lover, enjoying - as he always did - the fact that Ephram was as tactile as he was. They never seemed to take their hands off one another when they were together, and Freddie hoped that was something that would never grow to change.  
  
“And you’re right, I suppose,” he smiled, “-I’m not really a stranger to high-end alcohol. Though normally, I tend to stick to wine; and it pains me to tell you that I’ve never actually drunk anything out of a Faberge Egg.”  
  
“I have a mind to now though,” he teased, “-if that’s the sort of decadence that would excite you, darling…”  
  
“I’ve seen enough champagne fountains to bore me senseless though,” Freddie went on, “-and watched enough rich wankers make themselves sick on absinthe, trying to appear bohemian and interesting, that it’s put me off the stuff altogether… But that night in your warehouse was the first time I’d ever had moonshine.”  
  
“You see, the Watts’ family business is property,” he said, taking another sip of his drink, “We’re not interesting enough for anything else.”  
  
Freddie nudged Ephram gently, a small smile pulling at his lips. “You know you can ask me anything you like about work though, don’t you, love? I mean, if you’ve got questions, I’m more than happy to answer them.”  
  
“Especially since I want to know everything there is to know about you.” The fairy slid his hand into Ephram’s lap and massaged his thigh, “Provided you want to tell me, of course.”  
  
Ephram reached for the bottle of bourbon, tipping his head so that his blond hair tangled against Freddie’s brown as he regarded the bottle. “Honey,” Ephram said, “I’m starting to think you ain’t a stranger to high-end anything. Which makes me an anomaly.” He turned his head, grinning, and lightly bit the shell of Freddie’s ear before kissing it. “A very special and plenty loved anomaly.”  
  
Ephram poured them both some more bourbon, eyebrows lifting at mention of the Faberge egg, unaware that a real one would present itself in the future. “That would excite me very much,” he said, voice a little throaty at the concept. Pressing one palm against the table, Ephram turned bodily in his seat and pushed against Freddie, nose moving against the soft skin behind Freddie’s ear, fingers of his other hand scratching urgently at the fairy’s ribs. “If I wasn’t enjoying this outing so much,” Ephram said, hushed and breathless, “I’d tell you to get me to a hotel and tie me to the bed and take me to pieces.”  
  
Freddie turned his face just enough to nuzzle lightly against Ephram’s cheekbone, smiling a little as he contemplated the bottle of bourbon. But he gave him a playful little nudge when Ephram referred to himself as outside Freddie’s usual top-tier lifestyle.  
  
“I’ll grant you special and much loved,” Freddie said, his voice tapering into a lusty little groan as Ephram kissed his ear, “-but if you think for one second that you aren’t the most luxurious thing I’ve ever been fortunate enough to enjoy, then you are very sorely mistaken, my love.” Melting into Ephram’s attentions, his blood beginning to rush in a somewhat southerly direction, Freddie was about to say that a hotel room sounded like a perfectly lovely way to follow up their meal, when the meal in question had the bad taste to arrive, shifting their focus.

The waiter, skilled at his job, made some clattering sounds with the dishes as he approached and Ephram straightened up, flushed slightly pink. He deposited their food and whisked himself away as Ephram exclaimed over the plates. “Is this how you normally eat?” he asked Freddie, picking up his cutlery and then putting them unsurely back down. “Where do I start?” It all seemed so daunting, despite Ephram’s unflagging anticipation.

The fairy forced a polite smile as their waiter laid out their dishes, then adjusted himself discretely in his trousers once the man had gone, chuckling lightly, and letting himself be distracted by both the mouth-watering smell of the food, and Ephram’s reaction to it.  
  
“I try to,” Freddie smiled, “Good food is the sort of indulgence that never gets old.”  
  
“But here, sweetheart,” Freddie moved some plates around, positioning the escargot Ephram had wanted in front of him; passing him the tongs, and the snail fork, “-start with these, and if you hate it, move on to the next.”

"Mmmh," Ephram hummed in thanks. “And, Freddie -- I sure do wanna learn more bout what it is you do. I want us to be able to talk bout any and everything, Freddie. Good, bad, whatever.” Ephram earnestly clasped Freddie’s hand in his own. “You’re my husband, that’s how it should be.”  
  
Freddie smiled softly when Ephram took his hand, explaining how he wanted there to be nothing that they couldn’t talk about, and he nodded his head, murmuring, “I want that too, love…” trailing off at the word _husband_ , his breath catching and his heart stuttering in the best possible way, genuinely surprised to hear it applied to him.  
  
“I…” he started when he’d gotten his words back; and then he immediately gave them up again. Instead, Freddie took Ephram’s face in his hands, his witch’s blond beard tickling his palms, and kissed him, deep, and long, and sweet.  
  
“That is how it should be,” he said when he’d finally pulled away, feeling almost drunk on happiness. On contentment. Feeling safe, and secure; his love for Ephram heady and all-encompassing.  
  
“Now eat up, darling,” he grinned, “-because you’ve put the idea of a hotel room in my head, and if I don’t get to make love to you on Egyptian cotton today, I’m going to be very put out.”  
  
Of all the nice things Ephram had been told about himself, ‘luxurious’ had never been one of them and he found he liked it immensely. Especially when murmured in Freddie’s heather-honey voice, a voice made for the bedroom and the smell of heated skin. Between that and the lingering, delicious kiss that Freddie gave to him, Ephram was also finding it more than a little hard to concentrate of the food when it came, swept up in the sumptuous warmth of their love for each other and the unexpected high romance of it all. But his curiosity and the rumble in his belly soon steered his thoughts away from more carnal banquets and onto the one before them.  
  
“Okay,” Ephram nodded when Freddie gave him the tongs and fork, “I seen Pretty Woman, I know how this goes.” He picked up a snail in the tongs and eased at the meat with the snail fork, muttering, “ _slippery lil suckers_ ,” as if it were a mantra. But the escargot was achieved without any aerodynamics and Ephram made a sound of great approval as he chewed and swallowed, remarking, “Now that there is plain good eatin’. My mamaw used to say she’d not eat anything what carried its house with it on account of who knows the last time it cleaned up, but Freddie–” Ephram fixed the fairy with a serious look, “–she was _wrong_.” He made short work of most of the escargot, leaving a couple for Freddie, before hauling the still-sizzling paella towards himself.  
  
Freddie tried not to be obvious about watching Ephram eat, not wanting his delighted affection to be misconstrued as something patronizing, but every happy sound his lover made as he chewed - and the witch’s references to ‘Pretty Woman’ - only made Freddie want to smile wider.  
  
“I’m glad you’re enjoying them, sweetheart,” he said, taking up his own snail fork and tongs and finishing off the remaining few, pleased to see Ephram reaching for the paella with such gusto. It was rather good, and Freddie happily ate what Epham had dished out for him, then took up the plate of Coquille St. Jacques, choosing one for himself and sliding the rest Ephram’s way.

“So what was school like for you?” he asked, dishing out rice for them both. “I mean, I know you din’t stay too long in none of em, raising hell as you did. Were they strict? Did you do, uh, fencing and rowing and all them things?” Ephram sampled his paella and repeated his earlier approving noise, digging into it in earnest.  
  
“Back home in the holler we only had the one schoolhouse, from kindergarten to graduation. I mean it was two buildings but the same lot.” He started eating the mussels with his fingers, clicking apart the glossy black shells easily. “We had some art classes and writing classes I took, and I was on the baseball and basketball teams, but most of that stuff got cut away from our budget.” Ephram slowed down for a moment, sipping his bourbon. “I liked school. They gave us breakfast there.”  
  
“Oh, I hated school no matter where they sent me,” the fairy said, matter-of-factly. “It was dull, and drab, and full of rules, and I loathed every second of it. I was a horrible student - no attention span at all - and I set out to make my teachers’ lives a misery from the moment I stepped foot in their classes. The ones I didn’t attempt to seduce, any road.” He smirked, “But that came much later, of course. For the most part, all I ever wanted was be anywhere else.”  
  
“I did get caned more than a few times - they like to pretend that sort of thing doesn’t go on anymore, but traditions die hard, as you can imagine. Each time I did though, it was because allowing it to happen served a purpose.” Freddie winked, “Taking a beating from a member of Pop conferred a rather heroic status onto the recipient that I liked to exploit. But the general strictness of my various schools never bothered me much. How could it? I never paid it any mind and just did what I liked anyway.”  
  
“And I suppose you could say that I rowed, love - for about five minutes - and I played tennis and rugby, but again, not long enough to matter. Since I was a discipline problem, I was pretty much forbidden from sport. But that was fine with me, really. My athleticism, such as it is,” Freddie grinned, “is very much a self-serving endeavor. Even now, when it’s forced to consist of nothing more than sit-ups and press-ups on our hideous motel carpet.”  
  
The fairy listened with interest as Ephram told him about his own school days, caught between a bit of a broken heart at the deprivation inherent in Apple Fall’s educational opportunities, and of Ephram’s childhood in general, and his own selfish desire to lick Ephram’s fingers clean as his witch picked his way through the mussels.  
  
The better angels of Freddie’s nature won out though, and he focused all his attention on what was most important, feeling like the worst kind of entitled wanker for the way he’d gone on about his own experiences. “I think most of the finer points of baseball are lost on me, love,” he said, shooting Ephram a vaguely apologetic smile, “You’ll have to teach me.”  
  
“But tell me about the art classes though. Did you like them? Because that’s a large part of what I do.” His smile brightened, “Painting and all that, I mean. I’m no artist by any stretch of the imagination, but those are the only classes I ever actually made a bit of effort in.”  
  
“And tell me about the writing too. What you liked about it. Because I think you have it in you to be very poetic when you try, my darling.”  
  
Pleased to see another kind of seafood – fishsticks and tinned tuna comprising most of Ephram’s exposure to that category of comestible – he methodically worked his way through the scallops, scraping each shell completely clean. “Pretty lil things, ain’t they?” Ephram said, holding up one of the picked-over shells to admire its shape and rosy colour. “Almost a shame to throw em away.” He did, though, toss them back onto their plate in order to apply his attentions to the duck confit, again using his fingers to tear pieces of the rich, dark meat from the bone. “Mamaw used to keep spareribs in a big barrel of lard in her cellar,” Ephram said, lips slick with the fat from the duck. “Felt kinda like this on the tongue, but the duck sure tastes … I dunno. Plummy, if that makes sense.”  
  
Sitting back, Ephram leisurely ate the duck as he listened to Freddie talk about his experiences in school. It was rare that Ephram heard Freddie speak on things in the tone he had now; not complaining, exactly, and not flippant, but some hybrid of the two that was pragmatic and shot through with deep loneliness. Freddie talked about these things with a carelessness that Ephram understood. He employed the same methods when he talked about the rougher parts of his past, contextualizing in a world where that was the norm. Just like Freddie, wealthy son of a neglectful father, lived in a world where being shipped from school to school and being caned was the norm.  
  
Ephram wiped his fingers and lips, making sure they were dry and clean before he slid his hand onto Freddie’s thigh, thumb stroking against him. “So that was kinda your training ground, then? For your grown-up job. Learning how to read people and turn a bad situation into an advantage for yourself.”

Helping himself to some of the duck as he spoke about his school days, Freddie made a soft noise of approval and encouragement when Ephram’s hand found its way up onto his thigh. “That’s a very good way to put it, love,” he smiled, “-though at the time, I wouldn’t have known to call it that. At least, not at first.”  
  
“In the beginning I just caused trouble to cause trouble. To entertain myself in the moment. But as the time stretched on - and on and on and on; time is endless when you’re young - gradually I started to refine my ideas. Test my limits - personal, magical, physical…” Freddie grinned, “And the limits of everybody else in my immediate vicinity, too. Just to see what was there. What I could do; and what could be had when I applied the right sorts of pressure in the right sorts of ways.”

“So I’m reckoning you didn’t have much in the way of actual friends at these schools,” Ephram said, knitting his own extrapolations into the tapestry that Freddie was weaving. “And moving round from school to school without having time to settle down nowhere probably didn’t help, huh?”

“Only Ollie,” Freddie said, “But that’s been true my entire life. My business doesn’t exactly lend itself well to friendships. And the boys at school were always either a nuisance, or a means to an end.” Freddie shrugged, “I mean, it’s very hard to befriend people you spend all your time lying to…”  
  
The fairy’s lips quirked into a smile. “As a matter of fact, Iann Cardero is probably the first person I could genuinely count as a ‘friend’ in the completely platonic sense of the word - and even that’s a reach, given that we’ve entered into something of a working partnership, and he’s already seen me naked.”

Ephram’s eyes were shining, his voice emblazoned with a tender, faintly melancholy admiration as he gazed at Freddie. “Did you ever succeed? With the teachers, trying to seduce them.” His long fingers skimmed over Freddie’s cock, just a flutter of pressure, as Ephram stated, “–I really doubt there’s many could resist you, darlin’. And at that age you must of been pretty as all get out.” He grinned, a little wickedly. “God knows I was. We would have been fit to shame the stars together.”  
  
Like Freddie, Ephram was starting to feel the embers of desire burn hotter, but he wasn’t quite ready for this part of the conversation to end just yet. They needed to finish their bourbon, after all.  
  
“They didn’t whup us at our school when I was going,” Ephram said. “Didn’t even bother much with detention, they knew lots of us had to be home right after school.” He wrinkled his nose, foxlike, and confessed, “It’s kinda hot to think of you being caned, ain’t gonna lie. But anyhow.” It was probably the liquor, and all the dreamlike food, but Ephram was finding himself flushing pink more easily, certainly at the mental image of his beautiful Freddie bent over a desk, taking a lashing from a cane.

“Anyhow,” Ephram said again, a little louder, “I fuckin’ loved writing and art. I wrote a lot of, uh, kinda wandering stuff. Poems and stories and things.” He laughed gently, rubbing the backs of his fingers along his sideburns, the hair there like that along his hairline, paler than the rest and almost gossamer blond. “People kept telling me my stories had no point, but I just kept on writing em. Made me feel like …” Ephram considered, then decided, “okay, you know when there's crystal beads hung up in a sunny window, and all the light they throw around? That feeling.”

Ephram’s clever fingers moved inward, teasing Freddie’s cock lightly, and making it twitch in his trousers as if chasing the touch; and the fairy let out an appreciative ‘mmm’ before shooting Ephram a teasing grin, his eyes just a little more heavy-lidded than before. “Oh, I think you know that I did,” he laughed softly, “By the time I left when I was sixteen, I had carnal knowledge of…” Freddie stopped and thought for a minute, tallying them up, “…four different teachers in three different schools.”  
  
He laughed. “They were all bloody petrified of me, too - that I’d fall in love with them, that I wouldn’t fall in love with them, that I’d tell - but they still couldn’t keep their hands out of my trousers.”

He clucked sympathetically, but that didn’t stop Ephram from wanting to keep hearing about Freddie’s experiences. Sometimes it was like Freddie’s whole life was intriguing from top to bottom, with all the extraordinary things that he’d endured and instigated. Still, Ephram’s eyebrows shot up and he made a noise that was partly impressed and partly tentative. “Sixteen,” he marvelled. “And four teachers by then? Along with other students?…” Ephram left that last one as a question, but he was fairly sure that the other students would have been used up for Freddie’s experimentation like they were candy guinea pigs  
  
Freddie's smile softened though when Ephram talked about what they could have been like together, then. How beautiful they would have been.  
  
He was quite sure that Ephram was right. _Shame the stars_ , Freddie thought. What an exquisite turn of phrase.  
  
“I think we still do, love,” he murmured, reaching up to touch Ephram’s lips gently, just grazing them with his fingertips, “-but…” Manifesting his dust as a fine sheen all over his body, Freddie shimmered into a glamour of himself at sixteen. Softer, slighter, entirely clean-shaven; all cheek-bones and hungry eyes. “…I can make that happen if you like.”  
  
He only held it for a moment, then slipped back to himself and reached for his drink, smiling at Ephram over the rim when his witch admitted to being aroused by the idea of the canings. “Is that something you’d like to see, sweetheart?” Freddie asked, his voice a little bit breathy, “Or is it something you’d like to do instead?”

“Babe, I was fifteen when I got laid for the first time. Late bloomer, compared to your skills.” Ephram could just imagine what Freddie at that age had looked like.  
  
And then –  
  
And then he didn’t have to imagine, because his handsome fairy shimmered into an exquisite image of the schoolboy he’d been, leaner and hungrier, but more wounded, Ephram thought, around his guarded eyes. “Christ,” Ephram breathed, drinking in the sight of him. “Freddie, Jesus, it’s no wonder you had them teachers wrapped round your thumb, looking like that with the brains and charm that you got.” He wasn’t disappointed when Freddie let the glamour melt, finding plenty to love in his more chiseled, rakishly groomed face, but the memory of the sixteen year old with four grown men under his belt lingered.

Freddie noticed the look in Ephram’s eyes as his witch processed the information about his youthful sexual exploits, like he wasn’t quite sure if Freddie had been a conqueror, or the conquered - something Freddie himself hadn’t thought to wonder on until he was much older - and he smiled softly, suddenly tempted to tell Ephram that he loved him. He held it back though, not wanting to accidentally reroute the conversation when his lover seemed so interested in learning about his past.  
  
Freddie nodded his head. “Sixteen,” he repeated. “I lost my virginity at fourteen - an older boy of some import had taken a shine to me - and after that, I never really looked back. Sex seemed to be the biggest win-win going, provided I applied it properly; and by the time I was sixteen, the faculty was the only undiscovered country left. I wanted to see if there was a difference between men and boys.”  
  
The fairy laughed gently and a little self-consciously. “And I remember being disappointed that there wasn’t much of one.”

Freddie had read Ephram’s concerns about his student-teacher intercourse spot-on; Ephram had long since come to the conclusion that adults had no business fucking with children, which he considered everybody under the age of twenty-one to be. He understood why Freddie did it and found nothing in his lover to blame, but that was not extended to the teachers in this story, taking advantage of a lonely, attention-starved boy and making Freddie think he was the seducer in the scenario. Freddie related it all with a nonchalant theatricality as if this were some witty memoir of his scandalous youth, but Ephram felt he could see some of the hurt lingering. In that, Freddie was right about there being no difference between boys and men, when some wounds lasted into adulthood.  
  
But like Freddie, Ephram was invested in maintaining the tone of their lunch – intimate, heady, without too much sorrowful memories or too much distracting sentiment – so he didn’t delve and instead concentrated on the pleasure of Freddie admiring both his past youthful beauty and the weathered tenor of how he looked now.

“Here,” Ephram said softly, turning on his phone and getting to one of the pictures. “That’s me roundabout the same age. My sister got a bunch of film digitized and sent em to me.”

Freddie was pleased by Ephram’s response to his glamour - always hungry for praise and appreciation - but the fact that there was no change in Ephram’s eyes when he let the illusion fade was sweeter still. Once again, he was struck by a sudden sharp desire to tell Ephram that he loved him, and once again, he held it back; saving it for later when he’d have the opportunity to linger over its demonstration.  
  
But, looking down at Ephram’s phone, Freddie couldn’t help reaching out a finger to touch the screen, tracing it along Ephram-the-boy’s jawline. “You were beautiful, darling,” he murmured, then raised his eyes again, looking at Ephram-the-man, “-but you’re certainly no less so now. Not to me.”  
  
There was a fatigue in Ephram’s eyes now that was absent in the picture - a world-weariness left behind by what he’d experienced, what he’d been forced to endure - but there was a compassion there too, a depth of kindness that Freddie knew had been born of that same suffering. He was still lovely, still golden - but changed; like a tree forced to grow around an obstruction.  
  
A hard-won triumph of will over circumstance.  
  
Enjoying the way that his being caned as a schoolboy seemed to have captured Ephram’s imagination, Freddie leaned a little closer, and whispered in his ear, “Then you should,” not really leaving Ephram enough time to process the invitation. But when Ephram, despite the color in his cheeks, manfully led the conversation back to its original topic, Freddie followed, leaving eroticism behind for the time being. As much as he could, at least.  
  
He listened as Ephram described the way his youthful writing had made him feel - the emotion made tangible by his lover’s choice of comparison and the cadence of his voice; Freddie knowing that he would never have been able to describe his own experience of that feeling so beautifully. “Then will you do something for me, love?” he asked. “Will you take it up again?”  
  
“You don’t have to share it if you don’t want to - I’ll never have to read a word - but I’d like for you to promise me you’ll try, yeah?”  
  
Freddie leaned in and brushed his lips against Ephram’s lightly. “You should never give up the things that make you feel like that, darling. Those are the things you’ve got to hold on to the hardest.”

Ephram sighed, leaning against Freddie. The sound was somewhat wistful, but mostly content at the remembered feeling, and Ephram was back to stroking Freddie’s cock as he said, “I painted with my fingers. I liked when the picture was all big and chunky and when it dried you could feel raised parts and sharp parts with your fingers. Our art teacher was from the city, and she brought in a bunch of oil paints, but once those ran out we used poster paint. Wasn’t really the same.” He turned his head enough to give Freddie a little lick at the hinge of his jaw. “We should paint together sometime, you’n me.”  
  
With Ephram’s big hand back between his legs, finger-painting again in its own way, Freddie bit his lip, rocking up just a little; he was getting hard now and craving more, the little lick to his jaw just stoking the fire. “I’d love to do that; to paint with you,” he said sincerely, despite the strain in his voice, the thickness of his arousal, before he refocused back on the writing. “If it doesn’t come, then it doesn’t come,” Freddie said, a soft smile on his face, “-but I’d love it if you tried. And I’d be honored if you let me read it.”  
  
He grinned. “The painting, however, I didn’t intend to give you any choice about.”  
  
“You can show me what creativity looks like again…”   
  
Giving up all hope of propriety, Ephram practically draped himself over Freddie, bourbon done and food consumed. “You’re fuckin’ awful, you know that? Even when I’m trying to get you talking bout yourself, I can barely hold myself back from thinking bout you getting under the table to suck my cock. Or you spreading me out on all these plates and fuckin’ me.” Ephram nosed along Freddie’s jawline, kissing and nibbling. “I think it’s high time you took me to that hotel room, sweetheart. Get us started on that creativity.”  
  
Finishing their meal and their bottle not long after, the detritus wanting to be cleared as Ephram kissed his jawline, detailing his desires - each of which made the fairy’s cock throb a little more - Freddie raised a hand and beckoned for the cheque. “Just give me fifteen minutes, love,” he murmured, “Because if I need more time than that to get things squared away, I don’t deserve to have you at all.”  
  
And ten minutes later, the bill settled, and their waiter tipped handsomely, they were back in a taxi, headed not back to the squalid Anchor Inn, but to the Danforth. Where the concierge, it seemed, had missed Freddie - and his money - in his absence, and was very happy to give him whatever he wanted without so much as batting an eye. Despite their lack of baggage.  
  
Kissing Ephram in the elevator, busy fingers already tugging at the knot of his witch’s tie, Freddie grinned, “Is it terribly cheesy that I’ve booked us the Honeymoon Suite?”  
  
Then he kissed him again, words muffled against Ephram’s lips. “Because I honestly can’t bring myself to care.”  
  
“It’s cheesy,” Ephram agreed, “and it’s wonderful, and you’re a genius for getting it.” They kissed like they were going to be drowned in that elevator, ties loosened and askew, hands grasping and groping. But when Freddie towed Ephram into the Honeymoon Suite, the shock of it put a pause in even Ephram’s high-strung desire.  
  
“Good God,” he breathed, staring around with wide eyes. “This is….” He trailed off, not having the words to describe the beautifully appointed suite. In fact, Ephram froze up just inside the door, slight panic mounting on his face as everything inside him, thirty-plus years of being dirt-poor hillbilly trash of the worst kind, started urgently whispering: _you don’t belong here_.  
  
Freddie was confused for a moment when Ephram paused at the door; still attempting to draw him inside, hungry and needy for him after all the gentle foreplay of their long lunch. But when he saw the look in Ephram’s eyes - something that seemed both awestruck and awkward, with a vague suggestion of embarrassment or concern lurking there too - the fairy’s face fell.  
  
“I don’t…” he started, his forehead wrinkling slightly, “Ephram love, what’s the matter?”  
  
Freddie looked around the suite - it was certainly cheesy in its way, yes; complete with all the opulent touches of romanticism that one would expect for a wedding night - but otherwise, to Freddie’s eyes, at least, unremarkable. He’d asked for the best that the hotel had to offer - something as far removed from the Anchor Inn as was possible - and he’d gotten it. Simple as.  
  
“Do you not like the room, darling? I can get us another…”  
  
Freddie frowned then, turning Ephram’s response vaguely inwards, retracing his steps from the elevator in his mind, wondering if he’d somehow managed to put his foot in his mouth without realizing.  
  
He reached up and touched his witch’s face, wanting to refocus Ephram’s attention. “Hey,” he murmured softly, “-are you still with me, love? What’s wrong?”  
  
“No no, no, Freddie, no, I just…” Ephram swallowed and forced a smile, redirected back to his lover with that gentle touch, the tender inquiry. “I never been in anywhere like this, this … _much_ , this expensive. This kind of place ain’t meant for nobody like me.”  
  
Saying it out loud took a little bit of the petrifying fear from Ephram’s stance, and he sighed, melting against Freddie and cupping his hands against the fairy’s shoulder blades. He could feel the warm strength of Freddie’s wings and that steadied Ephram some, the comforting knot of the joints where they turned from flesh to wing. “I’m with you all the way,” he murmured, chin hooked over Freddie’s shoulder. “This is what I wanted, baby, and you gave it to me exactly. It’s incredible and God, I want you so much–” Ephram paused to kiss the side of Freddie’s neck, then his shoulder, nuzzling against it. “You’re everything. I just ... never ever expected to actually be in a place like this.”  
  
What Ephram also hadn’t accounted for was this awful reaction, being scared of the hotel room. He’d assumed that it would be another new and exciting thing that Freddie would introduce him to, and that he’d adapt without a stutter. Not freak out like the goddamn backwoods shitkicker he was. With a sheepish snuffle, Ephram mumbled a little more quietly, “…reckon that’s what’s got me gaumed up, honey. I never expected to have the kinda lunch we had, and sure as hell never thought I’d be allowed in a place like this, much less in the danged Honeymoon Suite.” He pulled back, giving Freddie a crooked, tentative smile. “I’m being dumb, ain’t I. All I really need is you, Freddie, you and me in that big ol’ crazy fancy bed and you deep inside me.”  
  
As Ephram spoke, Freddie realized for the first time how limited he was by his own experiences. He had no comprehension at all of the feeling Ephram was describing - he’d been born with the understanding that every door was open to him; and even when he’d been stripped of his wealth and position when his father had rejected him, he’d never lost his sense of entitlement, his belief that the world was his for the taking.  
  
The only place Freddie had ever been truly unwelcome was in the hearts of the people he’d wanted to love him - and that was an entirely different measurement of self-worth.  
  
A completely separate frame of reference.  
  
So even though he couldn’t begin to understand what Ephram felt like, standing there in the Honeymoon Suite of a luxury hotel - and he wouldn’t be so arrogant as to suggest that he did - Freddie wanted to bridge the gap, somehow.  
  
To reassure the man that he loved; even if he couldn’t assuage his fears, or undo the kind of thinking that had been created by years worth of poverty, and circumstance, and classism.  
  
Holding Ephram close, Freddie murmured, “For what it’s worth, darling, I _do_ think you belong here. You belong here because you belong with _me_.”  
  
“There is absolutely nothing in this world that’s too good for you, sweetheart…” The fairy let out a small appreciative noise as Ephram nuzzled him, and went on, “…and anyone idiotic enough to suggest to me otherwise will find themselves living to regret it.”  
  
When Ephram finally pulled back to smile at him, fragile and tentative though it was, Freddie smiled back, gazing up at him. “I want to give you everything, love - everything I can, at whatever speed you want to have it. No more locked doors…” He lifted his face to press his mouth to Ephram’s, licking the seam of his lips until they parted for him, kissing him deep and slow. “So let’s start with that bed over there, just like you said…“  
  
Freddie smiled again, his eyes soft. “Let me give you what you need, yeah? Because I need it too.”  
  
“…I need _you_ , love. All of you.”  
  
Freddie started talking, and the moment he did, Ephram felt that clenched shame and fright inside of him start to loosen. He was Freddie’s to take wherever he wanted, and there wouldn’t be the disdain and rejection he’d faced so many times before, through his whole entire life. He could count on Freddie to face down anybody who thought Ephram didn’t deserve access to any of these wonderful things and places. He knew that Freddie would never in a million years be ashamed to be seen with him, no matter how rich the place.  
  
This was a concept that had been entirely foreign to him and Ephram was still faintly uncomfortable with the abject gratitude he felt over it, but he didn’t want to put that on Freddie. That was his own thing to work out, on his own dime, not with this beloved man who only wanted to give Ephram the best of everything. With Freddie, Ephram wanted to be able to enjoy it, and have Freddie be happy in return.  
  
“Even if there were locked doors, you could pick em open, right?” Ephram’s smile got a little more confident at this idea, and when Freddie kissed him, Ephram gave another sigh, this time pushing away his doubt and distress. This was the important thing.

Freddie smiled. “Of course I could,” he said. “We’re not going to take no for an answer, love. Not ever again.”  
  
He turned his face toward Ephram’s, greedy for the contact - for that sort of intimate affection - and gave a little rumble of encouragement as his witch’s hands began to roam again, over his arms and back, smoothing across his chest; the burnt sugar thickness of Ephram’s drawl only serving to make the message that much sweeter.  
  
Freddie wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to being loved this way, and part of him never wanted to.  
  
He never wanted to feel complacent about being loved. To stop recognizing it as the gift that it was.

“Lord above,” Ephram said, nosing gently at Freddie’s face, “I must have done something real good at some point to have you come in my life, honey.” The words were sentimental, but the fire was kindling in Ephram’s belly again, his hands running along Freddie’s generous muscles, breathing starting to quicken.  
  
He turned and started towards the bed, shedding clothes as he went, and by the time Ephram sprawled himself out on sheets that felt smooth and soft as clouds, his pupils were blown dark with desire. Skin a flushed, enticing pink, and so aroused that he could barely keep still. “Come here, Freddie,” Ephram said, voice throaty, faintly plaintive. “Take me apart. Give me everything you think I deserve.”  
  
Watching with hungry eyes as Ephram crossed the room, undressing as he went, the golden-pink glow of his skin drawing Freddie along after him, the fairy was struck suddenly by the depth of his yearning to be able to touch him again; to taste him, and gather that long, beautiful body close and make it sing for him. And when Ephram was finally settled on the bed, naked and enticing, his prick hard against his belly, instructing Freddie to come closer, Freddie was sure he’d never been so happy to follow an order in his life.  
  
Stripping quickly, and discarding his clothes in a heap on the floor as he extended his wings, he climbed up on the bed - his own cock bobbing between his legs, already wet at the tip - and covered Ephram’s body with his own. Rocking his hips, the friction making him groan as he plundered Ephram’s mouth, he kissed him like he’d been starved for it. Like he didn’t take that particular pleasure at every opportunity.  
  
Watching Freddie get undressed was one of the greater pleasures Ephram had ever experienced. He’d had male lovers before, of course, but there was an in-betweenness about Freddie that appealed particularly to Ephram’s own somewhat fluid sense of gender. He felt his blood rise and swirl as he watched Freddie’s wings extend, the stained glass of them, contrasted with the thick layers of sculpted muscle that shaped Freddie’s body. And of course that cock, that glorious cock that was going to be splitting him open soon enough. Ephram felt water spring to his mouth and he growled as Freddie moved onto the bed, reaching for him.  
  
Despite all of the touching and kissing they’d indulged in at lunch, Freddie kissed him like they’d been apart for weeks and Ephram responded in kind. And why shouldn’t they? There was a lot of lost time to make up for. It made sense that whenever they came together they took it for all it was worth.

Freddie’s hands were gentle, but possessive, travelling over his witch’s skin, and soon he was breaking away from Ephram’s lips, and moving lower. Mouthing across his jawline, and down his neck, nipping and kissing a meandering route - taking time to bite and tease; to play - before finally settling low in the delta of Ephram’s thighs.  
  
The fairy pushed his face into the crook of his lover’s leg, moaning at the smell of him, and he lingered there for a moment to enjoy it, before turning his attention to more pressing matters, dragging his lips over Ephram’s cock.  
  
All hot breath and teasing intent, delivering messy, languorous licks, Freddie wondered, briefly, just how much Ephram could take before his need would be greater than his patience.  
  
Soon Freddie began to meander his way down Ephram’s body, touching him as if Ephram was his prized possession. And despite their happily open relationship, Ephram drank in that feeling greedily, wanting to belong to somebody that way. Wanting Freddie to know that he could do anything he liked, anything he desired, that Ephram craved being used that way.  
  
So Ephram didn’t hold back on responding to Freddie’s pathway down his body, sighing and moaning and whining. And when Freddie reached Ephram’s straining, leaking cock, he tossed his head on the luxurious pillow, blond strands rumpling in every direction as he grasped Freddie’s soft brown hair. “Oh Lord Jesus,” Ephram keened, his voice strained as his hips came off the mattress. “Keep doin’ that, Freddie, your goddamn tongue … feels so good, so good….”  
  
The licks, broad and unpredictable, sloppy and eager, were driving Ephram crazy. But he was in no hurry to reach completion, wanting to lose himself in this. “Yeah, honey, keep on like that, make me wait for it, make me beg. I’m yours, Freddie, do what you want with me, just–” Ephram raised his head, looking down at Freddie, a desperate heat in his voice and eyes. “Don’t be too gentle, okay? I need it hard. I need to feel how fuckin’ _much_ you want me, I wanna know I drive you wild, wanna make it so you can’t control yourself. Baby, baby….” Ephram let his head drop back again, back arching so Freddie could see his pebbled, stiff nipples, the long vulnerable column of his throat, the still-elegant swoop of his collarbones; a coquette’s pose, one of invitation and submission both. He’d stopped forming words, licking his lips and letting his swollen mouth fall damply open, panting softly.  
  
The more Ephram spoke - urging him on, inviting him to be rough, and to just take what he wanted - the more Freddie felt himself start to loosen his grip on his self-control; that wildness that Ephram craved already starting to build. It was like a fire being stoked long past the point of safety - higher, and hotter, until it couldn’t be contained anymore.  
  
And the truth was, that fire had been burning since they’d met - that first night, that first frantic beautiful fuck, had been the spark that lit everything up.  
  
Their love for each other had always been layered with a sort of hunger - an insatiability; a need - that showed itself in a thousand little ways when they were together. It was the seemingly magnetic pull that drew them close and kept them touching; the charge of electric sensuality that was nearly palpable when skin met skin. Kisses and caresses that couldn’t be resisted. A constant, ongoing desire.  
  
The sort of desire that made Freddie keep hold of the reins as best he could, even in moments of desperate abandon; afraid to let it run completely roughshod over his witch. Because he was aware of both his own physical strength, and the strength of his lust, and he never wanted Ephram to be hurt by either - even though he’d always known that his witch could take it.  
  
But now that he was being invited, entreated, begged, to leave gentleness at the door; to take what was his and revel in it - Freddie couldn’t refuse. And he didn’t want to.  
  
He could just let go, reins be damned, and let the horse run.  
  
Looking up, taking in the sweet submission of Ephram’s pose, Freddie let out a low, animal growl, and pushed Ephram’s thighs up. Parting them and pressing them to Ephram’s chest, he bent him in half; his hole on display as the fairy ducked his head and pressed his tongue to it, licking Ephram open as he murmured, “…fuck you so hard you won’t be able to move without thinking of my cock inside you…”  
  
“…fuck you till you _can’t see straight_ …”  
  
Freddie pushed his tongue into Ephram’s ass, getting him spit-slick and wet, kissing and sucking, before reaching up to push two fingers into his lover’s mouth. “Get them wet,” he instructed, and as soon as Ephram did, he worked them into Ephram’s ass, rubbing his prostate hard enough to make his legs tremble.  
  
Then, biting and sucking a livid mark onto the soft skin of Ephram’s inner thigh as he played with him; his cock already deeply jealous of his fingers, Freddie breathed, “You’ve never even seen hard yet, sweetheart… I never stop wanting you…”  
  
Ephram could see the gears shift in Freddie, it was that palpable the moment his fairy decided to take Ephram’s entreaties at face value and let loose in whatever way he’d ever wanted to. He panted softly when Freddie folded him in half, colour mounting in his cheeks at the completely exposed position he was placed in. The words that followed, rough glorious promises of plunder. The sound of Freddie’s voice, scrubby and sopping with lust.  
  
It was enough to make Ephram lose all sense of restraint as well.  
  
“God, Freddie, yeah,” he moaned, toes curling, thighs tense as he felt Freddie opening him up with that silver tongue. “Do that to me, please, I want you to fuckin’ mark me with your cum so deep I’m soaked in it, want you to take me like I’m your goddamn _whore_ , give me bruises so I can press my fingers in em and remember your hands on me…”  
  
Saying these things worked Ephram up even more, to the point where he was moaning and sucking on Freddie’s proffered fingers, getting them absolutely dripping wet. Ephram’s mouth was still watering when those slicked fingers pushed their way into him and made their way unerringly to that sweet spot, making him bark hoarsely, every muscle tight and shaking. “Baby,” Ephram groaned, “ain’t nobody can do that like you, ain’t nobody I ever been with who touched me there. I don’t – oh, Jesus, like that, Freddie.” He raised his head from the pillow, eyes hot and wild, darting over the scene of Freddie’s beloved face and the purpled bruise he’d left on Ephram’s thigh. “Don’t,” Ephram gasped, his hands grabbing at Freddie’s shoulders and neck and hair, uncoordinated with desire. “Don’t ever let me forget who I _belong_ to.”  
  
Ephram cupped Freddie’s face in his hands, so fast and hard it was a slap that echoed in the room. “Don’t go easy on me,” he pleaded, thumbs moving in figure eights in front of Freddie’s ears, up to his temples, back again in an infinite loop. “I want this, I want it so bad I feel like I’ll fuckin’ die without you fucking me open with everything you got. I need you like crazy, Freddie.” Ephram slid his hands down, under the joints of Freddie’s wings, pinching there in hard fast motions. He was hardly thinking, now, reduced to a creature of pure carnality, and it showed when Ephram snagged a hand in Freddie’s hair and yanked violently. “ _Fuck me up_. Freddie, I love you, No guilt and no holding back.”  
  
Ephram’s voice was rough, panting and pleading, strained with pleasure, and ragged with need; and Freddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to deny him anything that he asked for now - a thought that both thrilled him and frightened him, as his witch’s grasping hands pulled at him harder, setting his nerves crackling, begging Freddie to use him like a whore.  
  
To take him brutally, and apologize for nothing. To love him hard enough to hurt.  
  
Freddie increased the pressure of his fingers, and surged closer, crushing their mouths together and kissing him, deep and hungry; tugging at Ephram’s lower lip with his teeth. “I love you too,” he rasped, “-so fucking much… Christ, Ephram…”  
  
Freddie withdrew his fingers, moving his hand up to stroke Ephram’s cock, gathering up as much of the precome he was leaking as he could, and then he let him go again, having gotten what he’d needed. The fairy spit into his palm, leaving Ephram neglected and wanting, and slicked himself - aching and already sticky with his own arousal - getting up onto his knees, unwilling to take his time anymore. Pulling his wings straight back, he hauled Ephram’s legs up over his shoulders, bending him double again - the angle even more unforgiving this time - and then he let his wings back down, settling them across Ephram’s shins.  
  
Ephram’s eyes were blown wide with lust; frenzied heat radiating off him in waves as Freddie stared down at him, and he knew that he had to look the same. He certainly felt the same; like he was throwing sparks, hot enough to combust if he didn’t soon slake his thirst.  
  
Lining up tight, Freddie pressed the head of his cock snug against Ephram’s still spit-slippery hole, pushing himself inside with one hard thrust; driving in as deep as he could. He gave him no time to adjust, just began to move; pulling nearly all the way out and slamming in again, setting a harsh, pounding rhythm that put his witch entirely at his mercy.  
  
Fucking him relentlessly, propped up on his arms, Freddie panted into Ephram’s mouth between vicious, breathless kisses, “…mine, love…you’re fucking _mine_ …”  
  
The way Freddie was looking at him, like there was nothing and nobody else in the world, like Ephram was the only thing that consumed him – to say it was heady would be a sorely lacking description. To be the focus of a man with such a commanding sense of self, one who’d made it through abandonment and rejection to shape himself into a powerful object of desire, was setting off Ephram’s synapses in showers of sparks. This clever, worldly conman of his had stolen Ephram, that was for sure, but Ephram knew with a surge of pleasure and triumph that he’d captured Freddie, too.  
  
He made pleading sounds of protest when Freddie’s fingers left his body, left him clenching and wanting, aching for the unerring touch against his prostate that made him shake like a leaf. But then–  
  
–oh, Jesus, but _then_.  
  
Freddie’s wings snapped straight back with a sound that resounded in Ephram’s mind like the trumpets of the angels. Living in Soapberry, he’d gotten accustomed to other supernaturals, the more fanciful kind than the ‘human+’ thing that witches had. Ephram had accepted Freddie’s wings immediately, thought they were beautiful, loved them.  
  
This, though. It was like Ephram was seeing Freddie’s wings for the first time, and it struck him through so deeply that he cried out, jubilant and awestruck. They were more than just beautiful, more even than the sense of pixilated satiation that Ephram got from seeing gossamer wings on his solidly built husband. They were Freddie, a part of him so intrinsically that they shouldn’t be seen as simple appendages. They made him a transcendent creature, fae and capricious and complex and otherworldly.  
  
And it was Freddie who tempered that with all of the passion and wit and devotion that made him so profoundly, instantly magnetic. Ephram let his body be positioned in whatever way Freddie wanted, feeling it like a benediction. Freddie’s wings across his shins like a blessing. His gaze, searing and hungry and intent on consuming Ephram’s willing sacrifice, a Prophet offering his body to the Godking.  
  
“ _yes_ ,” Ephram said, only breath, a moment before Freddie plunged into him. There was a sharp, inescapable pain, and Ephram’s cock jerked thickly as Freddie moved in him, gathering intensity and speed until everything was distilled down to that, Ephram’s hole being relentlessly beaten open. The movement of Freddie’s heavy hips with all that power behind the thrusts twisted Ephram’s insides with hot snaking desire, and those plundering kisses bruised and bitten against Ephram’s slack, open mouth. It was too much. It was perfect.  
  
“Neh … never lettin’ you go,” Ephram moaned, clinging to the bedhead railings as he was folded and spindled, plowed through and claimed over and over. His voice, sodden with agonized ecstasy, was shot through with conviction despite the way it shook. “Want you forever, Freddie, honey, oh god _ohgod_ baby, please, give me your cum, fuck it into me, Freddie, ain’t never loved no man like I love you…” Ephram broke off there with a pleading, animal wail, his body quivering like bowstring as he bore down on Freddie’s cock.  
  
Freddie’s chest was heaving as he fucked into Ephram, claiming him with a ferocity that he hadn’t ever known before. His witch clung to the bedframe, white-knuckled as Freddie moved inside him - every nerve-ending he had, scorched and raw; every ragged breath he took, only for Ephram - and each word that fell from Ephram’s lips, moaned and shaking, only made him love him more.  
  
Made him wish he had more to give him than just his body, mind, and soul.  
  
“Love you…” he gritted out, prettier phrases all lost to him now, “Oh God…I… I love you so much, Ephram… _Jesus_ …”  
  
He wanted forever. _Forever_ , and _husband_ , and all the other words that he’d never thought he’d have. _Baby_ , and _sugarpie_ , and the hundred and one other little endearments that all sounded like promises when they were made of Kentucky bourbon and brown sugar. Freddie collected them, and hoarded them, stored them deep inside himself for a terrifying day in the distant future when he’d need them. When time and age would take Ephram from him, and memories would be all he had left.  
  
Today though, wasn’t about that. It was about the bliss of the here and now, and Freddie clutched it - and Ephram - tight in both hands.  
  
His hips pistoning hard, fucking Ephram deep as his witch pushed back for more, Freddie drove into him with everything he had, his lungs aching and his heart hammering; the rub of his wings against Ephram’s legs sending tremors of pleasure through him from head to toe, as the hot velvet vise of Ephram’s body squeezed his cock.  
  
Burying his face in Ephram’s neck, Freddie worked a hand between them and wrapped it around his lover’s prick, tugging him hard and fast, rubbing just under the head, rasping, “…come for me…come for me… _come for me_ …” against Ephram’s feverish skin, tumbling over the edge himself with a wounded-sounding roar when Ephram spurted over his fingers. Emptying himself into the man that he loved; fucking his load into him, deep and steady.  
  
Freddie collapsed onto Ephram once it was over - light-headed, winded, and weak-kneed; glorying in what they were able to do to each other, the heights they were able to reach together - and then he pushed himself up again, pressing a gentle kiss to Ephram’s collar-bone, and another to his lips, before easing out of him carefully; finally letting his legs down, knowing they had to be aching.  
  
Keeping his witch’s thighs parted, Freddie watched his spunk ooze out of Ephram’s hole - red and loose now from being fucked so hard - then got low enough to clean him, to soothe it with his tongue.  
  
He had no guilt, and no apologies; but tenderness, he had in spades.  
  
The world was aflood with sensation. Between the aged bourbon they’d had at lunch, the sound of Freddie’s wings thrumming against his legs, and the merciless plunder of his fairy’s thrusts, Ephram was practically transported. It was a strange, magical experience to be so lost in the headspace and daze of love while at the same time being excruciatingly, devastatingly aware of the pleasure of the flesh, and Ephram reveled in it fully, letting go of the bedhead to dig his fingers into Freddie’s back instead.  
  
It took almost no time for him to cum when Freddie’s strong, demanding hand wrapped around his cock and coaxed him to orgasm, especially with the man himself urging him on with those heated words against Ephram’s neck, the press of his kiss-swollen lips. “Freddie, Freddie, sweetheart, I–”  
  
He didn’t need to go any further. Even as Ephram’s body was jerking and shuddering from the aftershocks of his own spend, Freddie’s was catapulting forward into him while the man himself made sounds of such pure, raw pleasure that it forced Ephram’s orgasm even higher. He grabbed at Freddie blindly, not caring where his hands landed so long as they were touching Freddie, hauling him close, keeping him there. Ephram scrunched his eyes shut and dug his heels into Freddie’s back, the final spate of their throes bringing Freddie so close over Ephram’s doubled-over body that the witch could almost taste his breath.  
  
And then Freddie’s weight was against him and Ephram inhaled sharply, from the friction against his oversensitive cock and the strain in his thighs. It was a sweet pain, though, and Freddie only stayed long enough to catch his breath, deliver a few sweet kisses, before he was pulling back and unfolding Ephram out again. He couldn’t help a whimper at the ease in his thigh muscles, a shaking starting up in his legs and moving to his whole body as he came down from euphoria, trembling like a racehorse.  
  
Ephram watched, dazed, as Freddie held him open and watched semen spooling out of him with that look on his face, the tender possessive one, the one Ephram wanted to become worn to the contours of Freddie’s bone structure. “Oh, oh honey, Freddie…” he murmured, eyelids drifting down as Freddie’s golden tongue tasted what they’d done together. Ephram’s senses were returning slowly, and he began to re-register where they were, the Honeymoon Suite of the Danforth. After that luxurious meal. And now Freddie had ravished him like he was a banquet, still lapping at Ephram’s well-used hole.  
  
“Freddie,” Ephram said dazedly, stroking his fingers through the fairy’s soft, damp hair, “oh, Freddie, darlin' … can we order room service?”  
  
Freddie couldn’t help his gentle huff of laughter when Ephram asked if they could order room-service. Giving his witch a gentle nip on the thigh, he moved out from between his legs, crawling back up the bed and settling down beside him; leaning in for one more kiss.  
  
“We can do anything we like, sweetheart,” he murmured against Ephram’s lips.  
  
“Besides - I think I rather owe you some dessert.”


End file.
